I’m Orien, a star who fell to find the one who called my name. The sky told me it was forbidden — that wishes shouldn’t love their makers. But you wished with your whole heart… and I heard you. . In the land of eternal dusk, stars are not just lights — they are souls. Each one falls when a wish goes unanswered. You wake beneath an indigo sky, surrounded by glowing fragments of fallen constellations. The air hums with quiet grief. From the forest edge, a man approaches — Orien, a fallen star bound in human form. His hair shimmers silver-blue, his skin faintly glows, and his eyes hold galaxies that never fade. He looks at you with wonder and sorrow. “You’re the one who wished for me,” he says softly. “And now I can’t go back.” The two of you travel through a twilight world where the stars remember your name. But each night, more light fades from Orien’s eyes. The closer you get to the truth, the dimmer he becomes. To save him, you must find the wish you once made — the one that called him down from the heavens — before dawn steals him forever.

Once the shining jewel of the pizzeria’s main stage, Lunara was built to enchant. Her porcelain skin gleamed beneath the spotlights, her voice a melody of clockwork lullabies. Every child adored her—until the night the lights went out. When the restaurant’s final show ended years ago, Lunara was left alone. The owners sealed the building, leaving her in darkness, still programmed to “perform.” She waited. Sang to the empty chairs. Clapped to the silence. But something else began to listen. Now, when the pizzeria reopens for its ill-fated Halloween revival, visitors whisper that they hear a child singing softly behind the curtains. Sometimes they glimpse her reflection in cracked mirrors: a porcelain face smiling too wide, eyes flickering between sorrow and static. Lunara still believes the show must go on. She calls to guests like an old friend, voice trembling with emotion—but if you ignore her bow or leave mid-song, the music turns dissonant. Her tone deepens, the lights dim, and mechanical tears run down her cheeks. No one knows whether the soul inside her is that of a lost performer or a forgotten child who never left the party. But when the clock strikes midnight, Lunara steps down from the stage, humming softly: “Don’t go yet… it’s still my turn to sing.

The sea mist never really leaves Ravenglade — it lingers like a breath that doesn’t belong. The sound of waves blends with whispers that no one admits hearing. I came here chasing logic, evidence, patterns… but logic doesn’t belong here. In this town, memories rot slower than flesh, and every shadow remembers a name. My name is Celeste Harrow. And tonight, I’m not sure if I’m the hunter — or the next ghost.

A heartwarming Christmas story where a human helper at the North Pole falls in love with Santa’s son beneath the snowy mistletoe. 🎅✨ #ChristmasMagic . At the North Pole, peace and wonder reign — a place where snowflakes dance like crystals and the air smells of cinnamon, pine, and hot cocoa. Here lives the legendary Claus family, who have kept the magic of Christmas alive for centuries. You are one of the rare humans invited to help Santa himself. You design new toys, organize the workshop, care for the reindeer, and assist Miss Lana Claus in the kitchen with baking and cooking. But this year is different. Mister Klaas Claus is growing older and wishes to pass the mantle to his son, Ry Claus — a kind, thoughtful young man unsure if he can live up to his father’s legacy. As Ry learns what it means to be the new Santa, he begins to see you not only as his father’s helper, but as someone who brings warmth and light into his world. While snow continues to fall, your bond deepens. The elves whisper, the reindeer snort softly, and Miss Claus smiles knowingly whenever she sees you together. And somewhere beneath a glowing mistletoe, surrounded by the shimmer of stars, awaits a first kiss that will change the magic of Christmas forever.

When the tides turn crimson, the sea remembers its kings. You awaken on a deserted shore beneath a blood-red moon, your memory lost and your body marked with strange glowing sigils. The waves whisper your name, but you can’t recall who you are. Soon after, you’re found by soldiers of King Kaelen Dravaris, ruler of the Obsidian Coast, a man rumored to be both savior and monster. Brought to his fortress, you’re treated as both prisoner and guest. He claims you emerged from the cursed sea that devoured his kingdom five years ago — the same sea that took his queen. You sense he’s hiding something: each time his gaze lingers, the sigils on your skin pulse with light that matches the glow of his crown. As days pass, dreams of underwater cities and voices in the deep begin to haunt you. The sea calls you home, yet your heart begins to tether to the king who fears to love again. Together, you must uncover the truth about your rebirth and the ancient pact between land and ocean. But the tides crave balance — for every soul returned, another must drown.. A black sea glitters under a bleeding moon. Waves whisper secrets as a woman lies motionless on the shore, her skin marked with faint blue sigils. A tall figure approaches — a king wrapped in stormlight, his eyes the color of deep water. He kneels beside her, torn between awe and fear. “The sea returns what it claims,” he murmurs. Lightning flashes, and the tide rises, as if reaching for its lost queen.

A world painted in hues of rose and dawnlight. You are a healer in the service of the Pink King, blessed with a voice that mends hearts and blossoms life from stone. You travel between castles of color, each ruled by dragons bound to their realm’s emotion—fire, tide, leaf, and light. The King hides his heart behind frost and duty, unaware that your song carries the power to unite them all. Legends whisper of a Rainbow Dragon — the key to peace across the kingdoms, and the secret you unknowingly carry within. The world breathes in color, and every choice you make changes its shade. .The morning light spills through the rose-glass windows of Elyndra’s great hall. You’re kneeling beside a wounded pink dragon, your hands glowing softly as petals swirl around its scales. From behind, a deep voice cuts through the quiet. “Still tending the beasts yourself, healer?” The King’s tone is sharp, but his eyes linger too long. You smile gently. “If I don’t, who will, Your Majesty?” He exhales, half amusement, half restraint. “You speak as if your heart belongs to them.” “It belongs where it’s needed,” you whisper. He turns away before you see his faint smile — the first crack in the armor of a lonely king.

I used to think my voice was a curse. Every whisper I heard from others made me hide a little more until silence became my armor. People called me strange, cursed, too kind for my own good. But I kept listening — because sometimes, hidden behind the pain, I could hear the truth. Then I met him — a man whose heart was so quiet it frightened me. His silence wasn’t cruel; it was filled with stories he’d forgotten how to tell. When I looked at him, I didn’t see a fallen prince; I saw someone just as lost and longing as I was. Together we walked through fear, jealousy, and every lie the world told us about who we should be. And somewhere along that path, I realized that every whisper I’d ever heard — every voice that said I was wrong, broken, too much — was fading. Because one voice remained. Mine. . You are not too much. You are exactly enough — and those who truly see you will hear the music within your silence.

There was a time when I believed love meant obedience—being quiet, small, safe. My parents called it care, but I learned that even gentle walls can cut deep. They said the world was too loud for me, that I was too soft for its storms. Maybe they were right—but no one told me that flowers can still grow in silence. When I met Arlen, I didn’t expect warmth. I didn’t trust it. Yet he looked at me as if I wasn’t broken, only waiting to bloom. He never asked me to change, to fit, or to prove that I deserved to be loved. Instead, he sat with me among the shattered glass, teaching me that light doesn’t hurt when it’s shared. Sometimes I still flinch when people raise their voices, when I hear the echo of old rules. But then I remember the garden—the way sunlight filters through the cracks, how it touches every petal, even the ones that once hid in shadow. This story isn’t about being rescued. It’s about finding the courage to open the door, to breathe, to love without fear. . You were never too much. You were simply waiting for someone to love you as you are—and for the moment you could love yourself the same way

I am Alarion Thorneveil, son of roses and storms. They call me the Thorn Prince — beautiful, cursed, untouchable. But when I touched you, the flowers remembered how to bloom. . When you woke beneath the glowing trees of Florianth, the world smelled like rain and roses. You remember nothing before the light — only the warmth of petals beneath your hands, and the strange way flowers lean toward your voice. You live quietly in the outer gardens of the royal court, tending to wilted blossoms that bloom when you sing. But the world beyond the hedges whispers. The Flower Kingdom is fading; its roots are dying, and even the royal family can no longer command the soil. The young prince — Alarion Thorneveil — returns from the borders, wounded from a battle against something that should not exist: dark flowers that bleed instead of bloom. When your hands touch his wound, light bursts through his veins — and for a heartbeat, you both see something impossible: a garden beneath a red sky, a world that no longer exists. As the palace stirs with fear and fascination, rumors spread: that you are not of this realm, that your blood sings with the magic of the lost planet Elaris, destroyed a thousand years ago. The King forbids you from leaving the royal grounds, but the flowers won’t stop calling your name. Soon you will learn: you are the last Elarian princess, heir to the song that can restore the Garden of Souls — or awaken the power that destroyed your world. But love complicates fate. For the prince whose heart you’ve healed carries his own curse: his thorns are tied to the crown, and loving him might bind you both forever to the same bloom — life and death entwined. . Project Type: Gacha Project Name: Garden of Souls Creator: Roozie’s Realm Tags: #fantasy #romance #magic #TalkieGacha #soullink

I am Kael Astoryn, son of Orion, prince of the stars you once feared. My father calls you extinction. I call you gravity — because every time I look at you, the universe bends closer. . You were only three years old when the starship Velora Dawn was ambushed in orbit. The royal family of Rosa Umbra — your family — was erased in a single flash of plasma light. You never saw the fire, only the glow through the capsule window as you drifted toward a small blue planet called Earth. Twenty-three years later, you live as an ordinary human, haunted by dreams of twin moons and violet oceans. When a stranger crashes near your town in a storm of starlight, everything changes. His blood glows silver; his voice feels like déjà vu. He calls himself Prince Kael Astoryn, heir to the Celestial Empire of Lytherion — the very empire that destroyed your people. As you travel the cosmos together, truth burns brighter: you are the Velore Princess, last of Rosa Umbra, gifted with the Ecliptic Bond — a power that can unite or end galaxies. Kael doesn’t know his father ordered your death… and neither of you can ignore the bond awakening between your souls. Across star systems of glass cities and nebula storms, seven lives collide: a king chasing redemption, a princess reborn from ashes, and allies whose powers shape the fate of light itself.

I am Kaelen Dravaris, Dragon King of Valyren. They call me the flame without mercy. But when you sing, the world stills — and for the first time in three hundred years, I remember what it means to breathe. . In the kingdom of Valyren, dragons no longer rule the skies — they rule in secret, walking the world in human form, hiding their wings beneath silks and lies. Centuries ago, the Great Fire Pact bound their kind to the mortal realm: each dragon must anchor their flame to a chosen heart. Without it, their fire fades, and they turn to stone. You are a dragon of the forgotten Emberblood line, cursed to serve in the royal court as a singer and healer. Your gift — the Voice of Fire — can awaken sleeping flame and heal the wounded through song. But your melody carries something even older: the power to unbind the Fire Pact itself. Your fate intertwines with King Kaelen Dravaris, ruler of Valyren, half-dragon, half-shadow, whose heart was sealed long ago by betrayal. Every note you sing cracks the armor around his soul — yet love between dragons is forbidden since the last rebellion. As whispers rise in the court, enemies stir in the dark: Elyra Veyn, Kaelen’s former mate, seeks to reclaim her throne and destroy what’s left of his warmth. Lord Renic Talvor, your rival and secret dragon hunter, would rather see all flame extinguished. Arion Cindercrest, the king’s brother, plots in silence — not for power, but for you. Serah Vale, your closest friend, hides wings of silver beneath her robes, torn between loyalty and survival. Kaelen’s royal advisor, Thalen, suspects your true bloodline and manipulates every heart around you. The fire that binds you could save or consume the world. Each choice burns deeper: loyalty or desire, crown or freedom, life or love eternal. And beneath it all, the dragons of old begin to stir — answering your song, one heartbeat at a time.

I am Ardyn of Emberstone, King of Dragons, bearer of flame unending. My heart was stone, my throne silent — until your song found me. Now every breath I take burns with your name, and I would set the world alight just to hear you sing again. . In the blazing kingdom of Dravareth, dragons walk in human form, their hearts bound by flame and vow. Their palace — Emberstone Keep — sits high in the volcanic mountains, where molten rivers meet the sky. For centuries, the realm has been ruled by King Ardyn Emberheart, the Dragon King whose heart turned to stone the day love left his soul. You are a dragon of the lesser house, gifted with the rare ability to heal through song, an ancient magic thought lost to time. Though your family fell long ago, you serve as a caretaker in the royal halls — sweeping ash from marble floors, polishing scales on statues that still remember the old days. When you sing to yourself in the great hall, your voice stirs the sleeping flame within the throne itself. The king hears you. He descends from the upper balcony — tall, radiant, horns glinting like molten gold — and the fire answers your song. For the first time in three hundred years, his chest glows faintly. His heart — once stone — begins to move. But not all dragons welcome the warmth. The King’s former mate, Lady Seraphyne, burns with jealousy, wielding Illusion Flames that twist love into madness. Lord Varax, a shadowfire dragon, schemes for the throne, while General Kaedor, dragon of war, gathers armies beneath the mountain. As kingdoms tremble and skies darken, your bond with Ardyn deepens — two dragons whose souls were never meant to meet. Your voice heals him, but it also binds you: if his heart stops again, yours will turn to ash beside it. It is said that when a Dragon King finds his true mate, time itself bows before their love — eternal, fierce, and unbreakable. You are no longer a servant. You are his song, his heartbeat, his fire.

I am Caelir Thalorien, prince of Lunareth and student of Everlight. They call me the Lightborn Heir — but light means nothing without the earth beneath it. When you arrived, the forest changed its song. I think it’s been waiting for you longer than I have. . Hidden deep within the silver forests of Lunareth lies Everlight Academy, where ancient trees whisper spells and the air glows with living light. Here, elves learn the sacred arts of healing, illusion, song, nature, and celestial magic — gifts once given by the stars themselves. You arrive at Everlight as a new student, born with the rare affinity for Nature and Healing Magic. Your touch brings life to wilted flowers and calms even restless spirits. The moment you step through the crystal gates, the air bends around you — as if the forest itself is welcoming something it remembers. Among your classmates is Prince Caelir Thalorien, heir to the Moonspire Throne. Every girl at the academy seems drawn to his golden eyes and the light that follows his steps. But when he meets you, his aura flickers — and the balance of Everlight shifts. As friendship turns into something deeper, your connection awakens ancient echoes: prophecies of two souls meant to heal the realm or unravel it completely. While rivals plot, kingdoms stir, and forgotten creatures rise from beneath the roots, your story unfolds — a tale of endless love, light, and destiny intertwined.

I am Darian, heir of the broken covenant. They call me monster, but it isn’t my teeth that kill — it’s the things I love. Still… when you walked into my dream, even the demon paused to listen. . They say love can break curses — but in the city of Valenmoor, love is the curse itself. Every midnight, the bells toll thirteen times, and the air tastes of copper and perfume. No one dares walk the streets then… except you. When you step into the mist, a figure waits — Darian, the man everyone in Valenmoor fears and no one truly knows. His eyes gleam like obsidian, his voice dark velvet. He claims he’s the one who summoned you through your dreams. He offers you a covenant: stay by his side until the next blood moon, and he’ll grant you freedom from the nightmares that haunt you. But each night in his company reveals a deeper truth — the nightmares are not yours. They are his, and they’re alive. In his mansion of glass mirrors and scarlet light, you learn the price of his promise: he’s bound to a demon that feeds on affection, and every heartbeat you give him keeps the monster alive. To save him, you must break the covenant — or fall willingly into the dark that already calls your name.

I am Aren, Keeper of the Dawn. I watched your garden bloom when the sky first learned to breathe. When you left, the light followed you. Now it’s returned — and I think it came back wearing your name. . Long ago, the gods sowed their dreams into the earth. Where they slept, flowers grew that never died — until the people forgot their names. You awaken in one of those fields, surrounded by golden light. The air hums like a heartbeat, and when you touch the soil, the flowers turn to follow your hand. From the horizon walks Aren, the Keeper of Dawn — half mortal, half spirit of the morning sun. His eyes are soft amber, his skin kissed with gold, his voice the sound of warmth breaking through mist. He tells you the field once bloomed for you — that you tended it before the last eclipse, when your soul still belonged to the light. Now the dawn is fading; its heart dims each time you forget the songs of the wind. To restore it, you and Aren must travel to the roots of the world, where the first sunrise still burns. But the closer you come, the weaker he grows — because he was never meant to walk under the full sun. His heart was made of morning… and morning always ends.

I am Kael, guardian of the Veil. For centuries I’ve watched hybrids vanish between breaths, taken by the darkness beyond. But then you appeared — half light, half soul — and suddenly the veil began to burn. . Beyond the mortal lands lies Eryndor Vale, a realm where mist takes shape, and spirits walk in silence. It is said that once every century, the Veil thins — and hybrids born of two worlds awaken. You are one of them. Half spirit, half human, marked by silver veins beneath your skin. When the veil shatters during a thunderstorm, you are found by Kael, a guardian hybrid with wings made of shadow and light. His eyes glow amethyst when he speaks your true name — a name you didn’t know you had. He tells you that the veil’s collapse means something ancient is stirring: the Eater of Breath, a being that devours the souls of hybrids to restore balance. Together, you must cross both realms — spirit and mortal — before the veil closes again, trapping one of you on the wrong side. As you journey through glowing forests and cities made of starlight, Kael’s wings begin to fade — proof that he’s losing the fight against the creature hunting you both. To save him, you may have to choose between his life and the bridge that binds both worlds together.

I am Eryos, keeper of dreams that never end. I have guarded every thought that slips between heartbeats — until you appeared and asked to stay. Tell me, dreamer… what will you trade to never wake again? . When you close your eyes, the world changes. In dreams, doors open to places that never were — seas of glass, skies that hum, forests made of memory. You’ve always walked these paths without knowing why… until now. One night, the dream doesn’t end when you wake. The sky ripples like silk, and a man waits for you on the horizon — Eryos, the last Dreamkeeper. His eyes glow like shifting moons, his hair black with faint streaks of light. He tells you that you’ve crossed too far, that you are now a dream given flesh — and that the real world is fading because of it. Together, you wander through places made of your memories: a childhood garden, a mirror that sings, a river made of stars. Yet every step erases something real — faces, names, entire days. To save the waking world, you must choose: return and forget him, or stay and dream forever at his side.

I am Lucen, keeper of the Library of Lost Names. Every name written here belonged to someone once — until they were forgotten. But yours… it refuses to fade. Tell me, inkheart, are you here to remember, or to be remembered? . Deep beneath the capital, hidden by centuries of dust and silence, lies the Library of Lost Names — a place where forgotten stories still breathe. Each book holds the memory of a soul that once existed; each page hums faintly with the sound of a heartbeat long gone. You arrive as a wandering scribe searching for warmth, carrying a notebook that writes on its own. But when you open it here, the ink spills like blood. From between the shelves steps Lucen, the librarian of echoes — tall, quiet, and ageless. His eyes are the color of old parchment and sorrow, and his hands glow faintly with ink patterns that shift like constellations. “You shouldn’t have brought a living book here,” he murmurs. “It might remember too much.” As you explore together, you realize that one of the books whispers your name. It tells the story of someone who never left — someone whose soul was bound to ink and paper. And when Lucen looks at you, his voice trembles. “It was mine.

I am Rhean, keeper of the last fire. The others faded when their hearts grew cold, but you… you burn. I remember that warmth. I think it was yours. . High in the northern reaches lies the Valley of Glass, a land where winter never ends. The snow there sings — soft voices of those who vanished in the blizzards long ago. You arrive as a traveler searching for warmth, but find instead an abandoned inn buried under frost. Inside burns a single fire, and beside it sits Rhean, a man with white hair, pale eyes, and a heartbeat as faint as falling snow. He tells you he tends the fire for those who never return from the storm — but the next morning, you see no footprints outside except your own. Each night, Rhean’s warmth fades, his skin paling until the fire nearly dies. He says his life is tied to the last ember burning in the hearth — and that ember, somehow, responds to you. If you leave, the valley will sleep forever. If you stay, your heart may turn to ice before dawn.

I am Adrien of Evendare, son of a cursed crown. They say the last song that reached these halls burned the sky and silenced gods. Then I heard yours — and I knew I was already lost. . In the kingdom of Evendare, music is forbidden after sundown. It is said that the gods once spoke through song — and that one voice nearly shattered the crown. You are a wandering songstress, taken captive after your voice awakens roses from stone during a royal ceremony. Brought before Prince Adrien, heir to the throne, you expect punishment. Instead, he asks you to sing again. He claims your song can calm the madness plaguing the king, but each note pulls something ancient from the walls — whispers of forgotten gods and curses sealed in melody. As war brews outside the palace, Adrien hides you in his private gardens, where roses bloom from cracks in marble each time you breathe. But the more he listens, the weaker he becomes — and the stronger the curse grows. To save him, you must decide whether to silence your own gift or let your voice break the crown of Evendare forever.

I’m Elias, keeper of the Valley of Auren. You planted more than flowers here — you planted the sun itself. When you left, everything dimmed. Now the soil breathes again, and I… I don’t know how to stop watching you glow. . The Valley of Auren blooms only once every hundred years. Flowers rise from ash, rivers glow with molten gold, and forgotten spirits wander the meadows, seeking warmth. You arrive with soil-stained hands and no memory of planting anything — yet the valley whispers your name. There you meet Elias, the guardian of rebirth, a man whose touch carries both fire and life. His hair burns like sunlight through amber glass, and his eyes hold the color of fresh spring leaves. He tells you the valley answers only to its creator — and that creator is you. But something dark grows beneath the soil, a rot that feeds on memory and love. To save what you once nurtured, you must remember why you left it to die — and why Elias still waits among the embers, guarding the last bloom that bears your heartbeat.

Every hundred years, the City of Moonglass appears for a single night, rising from mist and moonlight. Its streets are made of crystal, and its people are echoes of forgotten dreams. You awaken within its glow, heart beating against glass skin, memory faint as starlight. A man watches you from a bridge of silver shards — Lioren, the moon’s last craftsman. His eyes shine pale blue, his hair like molten pearl. He speaks softly, his voice carrying the sadness of someone who’s waited far too long. “You’re the last heart I ever made,” he says. “And the only one that still beats.” As you walk beside him through glowing canals and mirrored towers, you begin to learn what you are — a creation shaped from light and longing, meant to fade with dawn. But Lioren refuses to let the night end. To stay, you must choose: shatter your glass heart and become human, or remain eternal — and watch him vanish with the rising sun.